Customer Reviews

Timoleon Vieta Come Home: A Sentimental Journey

5 star:		(9)
4 star:		(5)
3 star:		(8)
2 star:		(3)
1 star:		(21)

 

 

I just finished this book and thought it was one of the best piece of literature I've read in a very long time. Rhodes has the power to interweave stories. He brings characters to life with few words. Like other readers, I had to think a second when I got to the end (at one point, I even looked at the end to make sure I could continue). But despite the deception, it is still a happy ending.

This will probably be a short review, as I'm going to try hard not to include any spoilers. This book is about a dog who finds himself far from home and tries to get back. And then again, it's not. The dog becomes a device for letting us peek into the lives of the people whose paths he crosses: the old man who owns and loves him, the young woman whose lover cheated on her, the boy whose heart was broken by a gentle girl, even a little girl in Cambodia who sees the dog only in a photo of her sister, and more. The sub-stories are all tragic, yet darkly funny. The overarching story of the pathetic old man, his dog, and the mysterious stranger, known only as The Bosnian, who comes between them is the darkest of all.

Did I mention this book is dark? Well, it is. It's also quite well written and intriguing and, in some places, funny, as only dark stories can be. If you're not afraid of the dark (yes, it's very dark), you should find it a satisfying read.

Other reviewers have guided people to Dan Rhodes' book of 101 short stories (each containing exactly 101 words) called Anthropology as a less-dark example of his incredible talent. I have to agree. I read that book and, although some of the stories there are also tragicomic, at least they're only 101 words long. Seemed less dark to me. So if you are afraid of the dark, read that one. It's like Dan Rhodes with a night light.

I have to admit I only read this because I was stuck in a corner of Thailand without reading material, and this was the best-looking thing on the shelf where I was staying (alternatives being technothrillers, bodice-rippers, DaVinci Code, and books in languages I cannot read). Having been pretty much unmoved by the novel, it's interesting to see how extreme other people's reactions to it are. Certainly, the publishers have manipulated reader expectations with the jacket design and copy -- I, like many others, started off thinking this was going to be some kind of borderline sickly-sweet "an old expatriate and his dog" quasi-comic jaunt. It's actually something quite different, and if you don't see the ending coming, it does pack a graphic punch, so I can see why some readers reacted so strongly. Still, one has to admit that a book that manages to evoke such extreme outbursts of anger, tears, and delight in so many people (although not me), has done something right....hasn't it?

The first half of the book revolves around the lonely, aging, selfish, homosexual composer Cockroft (an unnecessarily arch name, cock-croft, get it?) who lives alone in rural Italy with his faithful mutt pining for a long-lost love -- the boy in the silver shorts. One day, a surly, good-looking young man turns up, apparently in response to some long-forgotten invitation. Cockroft is delighted to have this strapping mysterious "Bosnian" fixing up the decrepit house and paying the rent with weekly fellatio. This could be taken as a kind of lame satire on the "Under the Tuscan Sun" genre, but mostly it comes across as an improbable setup for something else. Unfortunately, the Bosnian and the titular dog do not like each other one bit, and Cockroft falls into the age-old trap of letting the shiny new thing take precedence over the reliable old thing. Eventually, the Bosnian coerces Cockroft into abandoning the dog, which leads to the second half of the book.

This is a bit of a stylistic problem, because after building up this quirky, claustrophobic, somewhat menacing story, Rhodes abandons it to embark on a series of short stories very loosely linked by the appearance of the abandoned dog making his way back home. Here, we can see the author truly in his element, crafting strong short pieces with a strong sense of place. There's one about a Cambodian girl's hard childhood in a village and the pain of leaving family and friends behind to marry a Westerner. There's a semi-magical one about a deaf-mute Italian girl who fulfills a prophecy by winning the heart of the town hooligan. There's a more conventional one about a Welsh college student who falls for an Italian guy on vacation, chucks it all to move to Italy, and is quickly made aware of the reality of situation. These are all stories about thwarted love and hope for a happier life, and one can see the connection to Cockroft and his long-ago true love.

The stories share a kind of wistful whimsy, and when they dovetail back into the world of Cockroft and the Bosnian at the end, the transition is rather jarring. It's this sudden change in tone that many readers seem to react strongly to, although I personally found it to be kind of clumsy. It does drive home the point that our own weaknesses and selfishness can sometimes lead to great suffering in others, but Rhodes' vehicle for that message, while visceral, seems rather unimaginative. Certainly, the book touches on some deep dark themes, aging, selfishness, sex vs. love, and so forth, but it's too light and breezy to do justice to the weight of these themes. This is perhaps why I found it an ultimately unremarkable and unmoving work of fiction.

First things first: Simply because this book has a dog on the cover, does not mean it is going to have a happy ending. Don't get me wrong, I am a passionate animal lover, but this is a novel, not Dan Rhodes encouraging animal cruelty. Now that we have that out of the way, it should be noted that this is an emotionally taxing novel. It should also be noted that this catharsis is not such a bad thing, or something to avoid.

Literature can put us in touch with our deeper emotions, and show us the different situations that arouse them - both of which this book does very effectively. Life is not a picnic, and the pieces don't always add up - Rhodes' writing makes that much clear.

My only quip with Rhodes' book is the way in which he delivered the ending. It seemed rather blunt and hasty. Otherwise, it was a well written novel.

Deceptively horrible in worldview, but a clever novel-in-stories. He makes a strong case for the world being composed solely of hope, its cruel disappointment, and the triumph of the weak. If you are in the mood for this sort of thing, and, in particular, for a terribly depressing finish, jump right in. Dog lovers, especially, should be wary.

Mr. Rhodes--chocolate is horrible for dogs; essentially poisonous. Throughout the book, the dog is repeatedly rewarded with chocolate. Why?

I wanted to like this book. The dog was loveable, but his 'master,' Cockroft, was such a despicable character, I nearly put the book down before I was halfway through. Cockrofts sexual escapades and thoughts reflecting his low self esteem take precedence over anything else. Timoleon Vieta's journeys away from his master give the reader glimpses into the lives of others--some of these allowed me to continue reading, hoping for something to tie it all in. But all in all the book left me unfulfilled and irritated with the ending.

If you do not find works from Quentin Tarantino and Chuck Palahniuk likeable then I suggest you withstand from marking this book on your wish list.

It is absurd for other reviewers to dislike this book because of the ending. Although shocking, the last actions of the book fully compose the harsh nature of the character. To find the book unlikable because of the ending is like hating a movie because the villan is a murderer; it is character development! How wonderful must this book be if so many people were disgusted with it!

Dan Rhodes' writing captures you from the very beginning. He takes you on a journey with an unforeseen end. Threads of tales and characters are interwoven to create one humorous yet clever, dark story about love and life in the real world, themes that should touch any human. This type of story stays with you for weeks after you have completed it, conjuring up connections and revelations that were overlooked whilst reading.

Dan Rhodes has written a hugely entertaining send-up of the "sentimental tale" -- swift, picaresque, brutal and unsparing of contemporary pieties. I read it in a single Sunday afternoon, howling with laughter right up to the end when I pitched the book across the room, knowing I'd that I'd played directly into the author's hands in spite of myself. If you're the type of reader who chortles at Edward Gorey's "Gashlycrumb Tinies," this is your kind of book.

(...)Maybe the book needs an Amazon warning: Readers with no taste for irony should skip this book and click directly to "Lassie Come-Home."

I've just finished Timoleon Vieta Come Home, and I feel I've been very gently, gently shaken until my teeth rattled. Though it is humor, this is not a book for a merry gambol. It's going to mess you up; depend on it. Yet it has the tone and flavor of a gentle frolic, disguising its very black worldview in the sorts of details and stylistic points one might generally classify as "amusing."

I found myself loving this book, which follows tendrils of plot, as an abandoned dog makes his way back home to Umbria from Rome, touching the lives of various characters around Italy. Don't worry -- it's not touching in that droopy, learn-how-to-feel sort of way. One of the stories is about a sister of someone who once photographed the dog. It's that tangential. And yet the idea of the book is firm and strong throughout, though the plot seems to wander so randomly along every branch of Timoleon Vieta's ramble.

The book is about damage, and the short distance between being damaged just enough to be real, and being damaged too much, hopeless. The difference between what ruin is romantic, and strange, and lovable, and what is too far gone, too messed up, unredeemably horrific. In some ways, it's brutal, this book, but in its heart it's also powerfully true. The cradle hovers over the abyss, and the difference between love and loss is a step, a flaring match, a couple of chromosomes, or a misunderstood folktale.

The author must be smoking crack to see killing a dog so brutelly is a sentimental journey! In fact if he were standing here right now I would throw this book at him. That's how much I hated the ending of this book! How sad to use animal abuse in this way.